


Burned Out

by heckity



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Dodie-inspired, Implied Past Abuse, Manipulation, poor wilford tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13894875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckity/pseuds/heckity
Summary: Inspired by Dodie’s song of the same name. Wilford remembers things he’d rather forget.





	Burned Out

Wilford sat in his room silently. He’d been here for days. He had to have a little ‘chat’ with Dark after he accidentally called him… A shudder passed through his spine as he even thought of the name. The memories still sat in his head and he couldn’t get rid of them. He couldn’t fucking get rid of them.

  
Damien had asked him to come to the manor that night, he was certain. So was William. Then Celine was there suddenly, and there was an odd comfort in her sighs. He was so in love with them both and wanted to be with them. But… dreams and ideas should not be the same thing. He waited, smiling, for this?

 

Celine was overconfident in her abilities that night and pulled Damien down with her. If only she knew. She thought she could take it, so did Wil. She should’ve heeded the advice that Damien had always told him. Wilford shook his head as Dark’s voice in his mind and twisted the memories. _My dear William, be careful, be cautious **but you just wished harder. You wished for us both and you lost us in the end. You waited, smiling, for this?**_

  
The last hopeful part in his mind screamed at him to listen to sense. “But they love you!” It cried, over and over, “They love you!” He thought of all of his viewers. All of his adoring fans who see him as a source of comfort. Thousands and thousands of eyes just like his, aching to find who they are.  
His thoughts drifted to the other egos. “And they love you!” The voice yelled at him again, “You can feel how they love you!” And it was true. They did care for him. What they say is coated and warm but that all they could they could do. The words only get through if they’re sharp. And unluckily enough for him, Dark’s were sharper than any knife.

  
Wilford slowly stood up and looked at himself through the shattered remains of a mirror long broken. “ **Look at you. How fitting for one so fake.** ” His reflection spat back at him. It was true. Everything about him was exactly that. Fake. He wanted to get away from his past. To hide in a fantasy. His one wish, ‘ _Make me a fairy, whatever it takes._ ’ He hid behind bright colours and bright smiles that never quite reached his eyes. He dyed his hair pink just to distance himself from who he was.

  
It’s not like lies were anything new to him anyway. He’d gotten used to them such a long time ago. Ever since Celine told him how much she cared about him and how horrid Mark had been to her, William had gotten used to the lies. She took one dirty look and turned it into a slap across the cheek, a harsh word became a tight grip on her wrist. “ _Oh William, William, please. I’ve always cared for you, you must help me get away from him.“_ And just like her tale, Wilford’s dream was a scam. He waited, smiling, for this?

  
He was burned out. His memories turning him into more of a mess than he ever had been. Wilford sniffed. He smelled of smoke. Thinking about Celine always did this to him. Her words, her smoke, seeped through her cracks and Wilford started to choke. Her phrases were meticulously thought about to hit him hard. Those sentences sat in her mouth, templated, and ready to fire at William to twirl him further around her finger. He waited, smiling, for this?

  
He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I can just talk about it.” But how would the others react? How would they feel if they found out about his past? They’d probably completely remove him from any plans, potentially cancelling his own show. “M-Maybe I’ll talk about it.” Dark’s face flashed through his mind and he flinched. If Dark reacted so badly to being called Damien… how would he react to everyone else knowing? What would he do to Wil? He shuddered and tried to hide as though Dark was standing above him. “I-I’ll never talk about it. I swear! I-I’m sorry, I swear!” A sob wracked through his body. _No, I cannot talk about it._

  
Wilford pulled out a small notebook he’d kept for years. He never remembered it until after his chats. Today, he decided would be his final entry. A message to the other egos if they ever found his book. He said this every time he wrote, but it felt more real than usual today. Tears warped the pages and smudged the ink. “ _Don’t build hope on something broken. I am not a cartoon. This is my cry for help, I am not joking. I might just leave soon.”_ With that, William closed the book and hid it, ready for another entry (if it ever came).


End file.
